University of Virginia Library

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71

FABLE X. The Swan and the other Birds.

Each candidate for public fame
Engages in a desp'rate game:
His labour he will find but lost;
Or less than half repaid at most:
To prove this point I shall not choose
The arguments which Stoics use;
That human life is but a dream,
And few things in it what they seem;
That praise is vain and little worth,
An empty bauble, and so forth.
I'll offer one, but of a kind
Not half so subtil and refin'd;

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Which; when the rest are out of sight,
May sometimes chance to have its weight.
The man who sets his merits high
To glitter in the public eye,
Shou'd have defects but very small,
Or strictly speaking, none at all:
For that success which spreads his fame,
Provokes each envious tongue to blame,
And makes his faults and failings known
Where'er his better parts are shown.

Upon a time, as Poets sing,
The Birds all waited on their king,
His hymeneal rites to grace;
A flow'ry meadow was the place;
They all were frolicksome and gay
Amidst the pleasures of the day,
And ere the festival was clos'd,
A match at singing was propos'd;
The queen herself a wreath prepar'd,
To be the conqueror's reward;

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With store of pinks and daisies in it,
And many a songster try'd to win it;
But all the judges soon confest
The Swan superior to the rest,
He got the garland from the bride,
With honour and applause beside:
A tattling goose, with envy stung,
Altho' herself she ne'er had sung,
Took this occasion to reveal
What Swans seem studious to conceal,
And, skill'd in satire's artful ways,
Invective introduc'd with praise.

The Swan, quoth she, upon my word,
Deserves applause from ev'ry bird:
By proof his charming voice you know,
His feathers soft and white as snow;
And if you saw him when he swims
Majestic on the silver streams,
He'd seem complete in all respects:
But nothing is without defects;

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For that is true, which few wou'd think,
His legs and feet are black as ink—